“My dear, I am glad you are here with me, and quite safe from those vultures who swoop down upon any woman as legitimate prey, simply for the gratification of a momentary passion. They do not hesitate to match their strength against the weak, nor to use every wile, hidden by suavity of manner and equivocal promises, to accomplish their purpose. I do not say all are like this, but the few are ever ready, waiting.” The girl’s brown eyes filled with a strange light, as if they did not comprehend the subtle significance of the words, or perhaps saw for the first time the full significance of what, heretofore, had seemed like a faint, quavering intuition. Her personal experience with men had been so very limited, and withal so pleasant, that she had felt a sort of brotherly interest in those whom she knew. But somehow, now, there was creeping into her soul an indescribable timidity or fear, and for what she could scarcely define. Into her mind flashed remnants of incidents she had heard of brokenhearted girls, and the tragedy of her friend’s sister stood out clear and ominous! With a start she recalled the day when she and Henry West stood near his sister Helen’s grave, and the half incoherent words again came into her mind and assumed a new and terrible meaning. Yet, here stood the unsuspecting mother, now grown sweet and calm once more; surely, Bess’ surmises must be wrong, for how could any mother have such a secret knowledge and still be able to smile—or even to live? “No,” Bess thought, “I must not even think such a thing of that dear, sweet, sleeping stranger.” At length Mrs. West came over to Bess, and folding her in her arms stroked the soft tresses as if she were her own daughter, still tiny, still sweet, still living! “I fear that I have alarmed you, dear, but somehow those things always make me lose control of myself, and I feel like the wild creatures who are ever guarding their young against the onslaughts of danger.” Bess permitted herself to be held in the protecting embrace for several moments, then suddenly releasing herself, she sprang to the center of the room, and dramatically drawing herself up to her full height, throwing back her head and clenching her hands, she said, with emotion quavering in her voice: “Look—tell me—shall I always be able to protect myself? Look!” Mrs. West was held entranced for a moment by the beautiful girl. Health glowed in her eye and reddened her lips and cheeks; strength of character was stamped in every feature; the strong will-power showed in the rigid jaw and tense nostrils. “Yes—I know you will always have the courage, and God will give you strength.” CHAPTER XV A JOURNEY UP FLATHEAD LAKE